Mask of the Red Death
by Angle1
Summary: A plague sweeps through and people are dying. The Opera is in shambles and Erik steals Christine away to save her life. But she already has the plague. Can Erik save her? Will she let him save her? E&C Slight AU
1. Death all Around

A/n Anyone reading my other fic. Phantom of the Dojo.. don't be confused, this is a different story. I haven't stopped my other story, I'll be updating that here pretty quick. Anyways… Hmm this is my First POTO fic. The idea came to me overnight and I jotted down a few chapters in one sitting. What else?..

This is a test chapter. Continuing depends on reviews. So review:)

Ideas welcomed as is constructive criticism.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Phantom of the Opera pouts

Chapter 1.

* * *

Death.

The scent of it hung in the air. Thick, like smoke. It filled the nose, coated the tongue and turned the stomach. It was bad enough outside, but inside the Opera House…it was much worse.

A normal man would have taken one step in the building, reeled at the stench and turned on his heel. But this man, this was not a normal man. He had seen worse… smelled worse. Almost.

He was not leaving without her.

He had planed on taking her away, but never this soon, and never for this reason. Erik paused as he entered the silent opera house. Bodies lay scattered here and there. Most were homeless people who had wandered in, looking for a quiet place to die. He didn't give them a second look as he continued to stalk through the lobby and into the opera itself. Here there were fewer bodies, but most were opera staff.

'_Such a waste of talent.' _He thought to himself as he passed many singers and chorus girls. Their eyes were wide open, mouths stretched in silent screams. Even Erik couldn't stand the scent of death any longer, now that he walked among it. He pulled a white handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it to his nose and mouth. The lavender soap used to wash the cloth did nothing to cancel out the stench, but it helped.

The carpet beneath his black dress shoes made an almost sickening squishing noise with his every step. Fluids from the decomposing bodies had soaked it.

Now, he reached the Stage.

He moved quickly now, knowing just were he was. Here he heard noises, moans and weeping. People dying or morning those who already left. He ignored everyone. Erik knew where to find his Angel. Ducking fallen scene cloths and tangles of rope hanging everywhere, he swiftly made his way though the backstage. He took the spiral staircase two steps at a time. There on the second floor were the dorms.

He almost gagged at the amount of bodies everywhere. Most were young girls.

For the first time, fear griped his black heart.

_What if she is one of the dead? No! no don't think that. She's alive. You saw her yesterday. _

He past one door. Then another, this one was open and a glance inside showed everyone to be dead. He moved on. The third door. Here he paused. This was the younger chorus girls' room. He reached out with a gloved hand and opened the door.

His heart both twisted in pain and exploded with joy at the sight within. Inside he saw his little angel, his Christine. She was alive, but far from well. The teen was crouched down on the ground; her shift was covered in blood and worse things. Tangled brown curls were tied in a knot at the back of her head. In her arms… was her dying friend. Meg.

One look told Erik that the girl was breathing her last breaths. She was all but gone. But Christine was not giving up. The sight broke his heart all the more, and even he couldn't tear her away from Meg while she still drew breath.

…. . .

"Meg, everything is going to be alright." She whispered to her childhood friend as she gazed up at her with glassy eyes. Christine had long ago accepted that Meg was going to die. All she could do now was keep her best friend calm and as comfortable as possible. Christine had to force herself to keep looking at Meg and talking to her. She was a horrible sight.

Most of Megs' body had turned a dark shade of grey. Her skin hung lose from her face. Her neck was swollen, as was parts of her arms. She lacked all color, except her lips, her lips were red from the blood that she was coughing up. But she had long ago stopped coughing, no longer having the strength to. Now her breath came in short and gurgled as her lungs slowly filled with blood.

Christine had tears in her eyes, blurring her vision, but she didn't look away until the life left Meg.

…. . .

Erik bowed his masked head slightly as Christins' sobs grew. Meg was finally gone. Her pain was over. He felt guilty for taking so long to find Christine. He might have been able to save both her and Meg. But he was here now, and he had to get his Angel out of this place. She was probably already ill.

"Christine."

……..

Christine turned at the sound of her name and gasped at the man before her.

_How long has he been there?_

She hadn't even heard him open the door. She let go of Meg and self-consciously rubbed at the tears on her face. What was he doing here? _Who_ was he? He was tall, easily filling the door he was standing in. He wore a black tuxedo with a cape. But what stood out most was the half mask that he wore. It was white, emotionless… inhuman.

"Who are you?"

She watched him shake his head.

"That's not important right now." He said in a soft musical voice. Christine looked around the room, seeing the bodies of her fellows. Death was all around, and she bet she looked like death too… but she didn't care.

"No, no I guess not." She agreed before turning back to her friend and slowly petted her blond hair. The room was silent again, and Christine thought that the strange masked man had left her alone in peace.

So she was surprised when she felt strong arms wrap around her and yank her from Megs' bed.

* * *

A/n. Short, gah horribly short. My chapters are longer than this mostly. Anyway tell me what you think, and if I should continue. click on the little review button…even to just say hi

See it..

Tis right down here.


	2. The Buggy

A/n Wow I'm surprised that many of you liked the first chapter and want me to go on. :) Things will go a bit slow in their relationship in the next few chapters, but don't worry. Hehe

Hmm well I want to thank all my reviewers. Marumae- for being the first reviewer. Who reviewed my story like 10 minutes after I had posted it. Hehe.

To Shadowgirl hehe I'm so glad you read and reviewed. Welcome back to the wonderful worlfd of fiction . me sorry it was a bit nasty in that first chapter and all. But death isn't pretty.HisPhantomess- I love your name hehe. The Mouse in the Opera House – GAH! Not my cheese! Call them off! Look see I updated! Wild Mage Lioness –Aww bows thank you. And thanks to Elaina7774, Mominator and Jezebel21

Okay enough of that and on to the story :)

Disclaimer. I don't own the Phantom

* * *

When we last left the story….

The room was silent again, and Christine thought that the strange masked man had left her alone in peace.

So she was surprised when she felt strong arms wrap around her and yank her from Megs' bed.

* * *

Chapter 2

"Nooooo! Put me down! Let me go...right... now!" Christine shrieked as she kicked and flailed about. Fear fuelled her enough to fight back. Who was this man? Why was he wearing a mask? Was he an abductor?

'_Good lord! He's a kidnapper!'_

The thought caused another surge of energy to course though her small emaciated body. She struggled even harder when she was suddenly thrown over his shoulder, her arms pinned so she could no longer hit.

……..

He hated to hear her scream so. He didn't want to scare her, but he had no choice. Erik didn't want to stand and argue with Christine in this opera house that was now a tomb. He had to get her out and in a safer, much cleaner place. He remained as calm as he could to keep from frightening her any more.

'_Damn she's so light. Nothing but bones and this shift_.'

But she could sure fight. Erik grinned at her struggles, weak as they were.

'_That's it Angel… fight, never give up that spirit.' _He silently urged her to be brave as he placed her over his shoulder and left the dorm. He stalked quickly back the way he came with the girl screaming at the top of her powerful lungs.

"Let me go! Who are you! Nooo I want to go back to Meg! Meg!" She kicked but they did little to deter him, if anything he held her tighter.

Erik was half surprised that no one still alive in the opera house came running at her screams. Anyone could have walked in and taken Christine just as he had. That angered him. Scared him too. He was only thankful that he came when he had.

"Oh my God." Christine choked out as they entered the Opera. Out here the bodies where in a much more advanced state of decomposition. The sight was horrifying, as well as the smell.

Cursing, Erik shifted Christine on his shoulder and threw his cape over her head and body and wrapped her tightly. She didn't need to see the horrifying sight. He hoped that he didn't ruin her innocent mind even more by dragging her through the filth. But that could not be helped. He swiftly left the opera, in the lobby he weaved through and stepped over the bodies. By this time Christines' screams had turned into helpless sobs.

'_Cry my Angel... let it out. Let the pain go…cry'_

Yet even as he thought these things, he was already worried that the emotional distress was racking her already weak body. But he knew better than anyone that holding it all in would be far worse.

Outside, the cold late Autumn air was like a splash of crisp cool water on a hot summers day. Suddenly the reek of bodies that had assaulted him was gone. Out here in the open with the morning wind to carry the scent away, it was as if it was a beautiful harvest day. But the lovely sight was ruined by the bodies that littered the side of the streets. People running back and forth like confused ants, with cloths wrapped around their faces. The sound of distance screams was all that cut though the silence.

Erik didn't stop to enjoy the cleaner air. He quickly took the stone steps down to the street where a black covered buggy was waiting for him. The cold cleaner air seemed to revive the child from her lethargy a she returned to her struggles and screams from beneath his cape. In one swift movement, he unclasped his cape and took the girl from his shoulder and into his arms. He opened the buggy door and set her inside, cape and all.

He paused, looked about the street. It was chaos.

No one had even noticed her screams, or if they did, was too far gone in their own nightmare to care. Further down the cobble stone street, a wooden wagon was slowly being pulled along one side. People covered almost head to toe in soiled bandages were walking along it, gathering the bodies from the buildings and streets and heaving them into the back of the large wagon.

Lepers.

Seems old prejudices die hard. It was dirty nasty work that carried the risk of catching the disease. Only the lowest on the social ladder was willing to do such a job. So why not those who had a disease themselves and would most likely die anyways? Human way of thinking could be so twisted at times.

"Monsieur?"

Erik looked up at the driver of the buggy. He was wrapped in many layers of clothing, making it almost impossible to determine his body shape. His head and face was wrapped with a long white scarf. Only his eyes showed through. Dark eyes and ebony skin.

"Back to the Hotel, Daroga." Erik said softly as he joined a wiggling Christine in the buggy and shut the door.

Daroga snapped the reins and the two large black Friesians immediately started off into a trot. The racket of the buggy and the horses caused anyone wandering out on the street to suddenly jump back to the side of the road; lest they get ran over.

…… . .

Inside Christine was able to work her head free of the cape. She looked around wildly.

'_Where am I? Oh God, I'm in a buggy. Where is he taking me?' _Her gaze fell on the dark looming figure sitting next to her. He regarded her with a curious stare. _'That mask, that horrible god-awful mask!' _

"Who are you? Where are you taking me?" she shot at him, glaring as best she could with her dark eyes.

Erik sighed and reached out to set a hand on her cheek but she jerked away before he could touch her. Hurt and anger immediately registered across his eyes and Christine sat back, pressing her back as far into the buggy as far away from him as possible. Erik shifted a bit uncomfortable in the tight confines of the buggy.

"You may call me Erik." He said softly. "I'm taking you to a place where you will be safe from the plague. Though I fear you may have already caught it." Seeing the fear in her eyes he quickly bit his tongue.

'_I'm scaring her. Damn it!'_

"But don't fear, if you are ill I am very confident I can cure you. I'm rather educated in the ways of medicine." He watched the fear drain from her face and was replaced with anger.

"You lie! If you were so well educated why are you not out there helping to save people? Why didn't you come to help me save Meg?" Christine covered her face with her hands, Ashamed that she was crying in front of her abductor. "Why didn't you save Meg?"

Eriks' shoulder sagged. For once he was at a loss for words. Besides, he couldn't think with Christine sobbing like she was.

"Christine, you must believe me. I thought you were dead till I saw you yesterday running from the open market" He reached out and took her wrists in his gloved hands and pulled her hands from her face so he could look at her. She tried to look away but he moved to catch her eyes with his. "Had I known you were alive I would have come for you much sooner. I would have taken you from that Opera before things became so bad. I would have taken both you and Meg. I would have done anything to make you happy. Christine!"

The young woman had lunged from her seat and dived for the buggy door. The small door flew open and Christine saw freedom in the form of cobble stones whizzing past her. But strong hands held her before she could jump and she screamed in frustration. Christine was yanked back into the buggy, she hit the wall from the force of the pull and watched as the abductor reached out and shut the door.

"That was foolish Christi -"

But Erik didn't get a chance to finish what he had to say. For as soon as he had turned back to the girl,..

…. . .

She slapped him.

…. . .

Christine knew she had made a big mistake as she watched his head snap to the left. She covered her mouth with her stinging hand to smother her gasp as she realized what she had done. Erik slowly turned his head back to face Christine, eyes open but anger flashed in the cool blueness of them. Slowly he lifted his hand to touch his bare, stinging cheek.

"Christine." He growled. It was a warning, and she knew it.

* * *

A/n There you go. Another chapter hehe don't kill for the slight cliffie. I'm know for cliffies in most of my chapters…please review and thank you for reading! 


	3. Letting it all out

A/N Gah I love all the reviews!

Potosynthesis – I love Dr. Pepper! Aye I'm sorry about having to kill Meg off. I kinda liked her too. I hope the idea doesn't come back to haunt me.

Marumae – True. I mean… what person in their right mind would swoon into the arms of her kidnapper, even if he did look like Erik. :)

The Mouse- Yay! My cheese is safe and well! See here is another chapter. So keep them fuzzies away. :)

And thanks to all my other reviewers!

Disclaimer. I don't own POTO

* * *

When we last left off… 

Erik slowly turned his head back to face Christine, eyes open but anger flashed in his cool blue eyes. Slowly he lifted his hand to touch his bare, stinging cheek.

"Christine." He growled. It was a warning, and she knew it.

* * *

Chapter 3. 

Christine was surprised at how the mans' deep, almost hypnotizing voice could turn so booming and menacing. And he only said one word, her name.

"I…I.." She stumbled, wanting to apologize. But why should she apologize to _him_? Erik reached out again but she shied away. He jerked his hand back, emotions playing across his half covered face again.

"Christine, I would sooner cut my hand off than strike you." That was not entirely true. If he was in his right mind he would sooner harm himself, but if he had lost his temper…

He didn't even want to think about losing his temper around Christine.

They sat in an uncomfortable silence till the buggy stopped a few minutes later. The buggy bounced as the driver jumped from the seat. Christine moved slowly so that her captor wouldn't think she was up to something and slowly moved the dark curtain from the window.

Erik sat back and watched as she looked around outside. He could read the confusion in on her face.

"We are not getting off?"

Erik shook his head.

"We are only making a fast stop to collect a few of my belongings before we leave." He glanced out the window, watching his servant Daroga along with a few others file out of the grand hotel with a few trunks. "Christine." He said in that same warning tone when they grew near with the trunks.

Christine swallowed back the call for help.

'_How does he do that?'_

The buggy was jostled around a bit as the trunks were loaded. The door was opened and Daroga appeared, handing Erik a much smaller chest that he quickly tucked under the seat. Moments later there was a snap of a whip and the buggy jerked forward again and they were on their way. Christine sighed, letting the curtain fall back into place.

'_I should have called for help when I had the chance. Why did I have to listen to his warning?'_

…. . .

They settled back into a semi-comfortable silence. Christine scooted as far from Erik as the buggy would allow and gazed off into nothingness. Erik let her sit in silence. Yet his heart was troubled. He was sure that she was suffering, mourning the loss of her dear friend. He didn't want her young heart to suffer alone, but he knew that he was the last person that she wanted to confide in at the moment.

….. . .

Ever so often Christine would glance out the window and soon noticed that the buildings where getting few and far between, and that they had left the cobble stone streets far behind and now travled on smooth dirt roads. She sat up suddenly.

"Where are you taking me?"

Erik glanced at her but didn't move his head.

"To the country." He said simply

"What!"

"It's safer there. The plague can't reach you. I have a nice country side home that…." He trailed off as he watched the girl crumple into tears again. "Oh Christine." He reached out and took her into his arms.

She tried the hold the tears back, but not matter what she tried, they fell anyways. And once the warm tears fell, the sobs came. It was hopeless to hold them back now. She was only half aware that her abductor pulled her into his warm embrace. She didn't want to go to the country; there was nothing for her there.

"I want to go back home!" She sobbed into Eriks' shoulder.

"You're home is gone now Christine."

"I want to go back and be with Meg!" she countered, her voice hardly comprehensible with her sobs.

"Meg is dead Honey."

"I know! I want to be dead too."

Erik stiffened. His voice lost its' soothing qualities and became hard…scolding. "No Christine. Don't ever wish for such a thing."

"But I.."

"You have it better than most people Christine… you are alive, and at the moment you have your health. There are people who don't even have that right now. People who are begging for death, and look at you, still alive and well wanting to die. Those people would give anything to be you right now Christine." He snapped his mouth shut. He felt like a hypocrite. How many times in his life time did he wish he was dead? Countless times. But he was older now, wiser. "There is always someone out there who has it worse than you." He snapped ruthlessly.

Silence….. . .

"I u-understand." Christine finally replied, her voice still muffled by his shoulder. Erik patted her back and soothed her with soft nonsense words.

"However, it is alright to cry, Dear Christine."

And cry she did. Christine wasn't sure how long she let herself cry, all she knew was that it felt so much better to release. Out came all the pent up emotion that she hid from Meg and herself. She needed to be strong for Meg. But now… now… Meg was gone.

Gone.

……… . .

Christine wrinkled her brow in confusion. She smelled leather, and heard the clop of horse hooves, the jingle of chains and ring of wheels turning. _'Where am I? I shouldn't be sleeping. I should be watching Meg.' _But she was so comfortable and warm. She snuggled closer to the source of the heat. She instantly felt a hand reach and pet her cheek. With a gasp, her brown eyes shot open and saw that she was curled up in the lap of her masked kidnapper. And she had been nuzzling at his neck! _'Good Lord.'_

She leapt back and promptly fell onto the floor of the buggy. Erik jerked out of his half sleep stupor and quickly pulled the still startled girl from the floor and set her on the seat next to him. His blue eyes looked tired but alert as he scanned her for any hurts.

"Christine? Are you alright?" His voice was slightly groggy from the sudden wake from sleep.

Christine returned to the tight corner of the buggy, moving as far away from him as possible. "Yes! ….yes I'm fine. I just didn't think I would wake up in-… like that."

Erik relaxed, turning his body slightly so he could face the girl. "You cried a long while.. it did you good, as did the sleep." He watched Christine as she tried to compose herself, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and straightening her shift.

"Do you have to look at me?" _'God he's so unnerving. I can't think when he looks at me.'_ Christine wrapped her arms around herself and gazed at the curtain that covered the buggy window.

"Yes." _'I must look at you; I need to look at you. Christine.'_

Christine only glared at him, too tired to argue. He only gazed back at her with a kind, startling caring look. Unsure what to think about this, she turned to the window again and pushed back the curtain. Christine was surprised to see the late afternoon sun already starting to set. She had slept most of the day away.

"Um, …" Christine shifted on the buggy seat, embarrassed. She kept her eyes lowered to her hands on her lap as she turned back to face the masked man. "Could we…stop a moment?"

"Why do you want us to stop? It's getting dark soon and these roads are not safe to travel at night." He paused when he notice the blush that flooded her pale face, the way her eyes refused to even look at him. He smiled a soft knowing smile "Ah, .. I see." He said softly then sat up and beat at the roof of the buggy twice with his fist. The noise made Christine jump.

The buggy slowed and came to a stop.

Christine watched nervously as Erik climbed out of the buggy, grabbing his cape from the floor of the buggy where it had fallen when she had taken her tumble. He snapped the cape once to shake it out and offered his gloved hand to Christine. She didn't want to touch him. She didn't need his help. For weeks she had taken care of her friends and Meg as one by one they grew ill and died. But she was raised better than that. The man obviously had been nothing short of painfully polite to her. Least she could return the courtesy, even if she didn't know his reasons for kidnapping her. So she tipped her chin up and took his hand and stepped carefully and as gracefully as she could from the buggy.

As soon as both feet were on the ground, Erik draped his cape over her shoulders. She wrapped it around her, remembering that she only wore a shift.

'_How embarrassing, kidnapped in my underwear." _

" I'll, … um.. just dart into the trees over there." Christine started off to a little grove of trees that grew on the edge of the road.

"Daroga shall accompany you."

Christine wheeled around, "What!"

* * *

A/N GAH! How embarrassing is that? Well at least Erik didn't say he was going to follow her. . Reviews are loved. And thanks for reading!. 


	4. Spilling Information

A/n I had a few Private messages asking about the plague and how it was possible that so many died as I described in the first chapter. I modeled the plague after the Bubonic plague..AKA the Black Death. It killed a 3rd of Europe's' population something like 34 million people in the span of 4 years. The last break out of this plague was in the 1700's. it still exists today but is very isolated…..I also added a few Ebola (aka Blood plague) symptoms. Ebola is a plague in Africa that has an 80 percentdeath rate within a week of infection. This plague started in the 70's and there is still wide yet rare outbreaks today.

Okay enough of the biology lecture egads, (blame my bio teacher who had a fascination with these kinds of things)

'huggles all my reviews.' love you guys :)

p.s.- there is a bit of history in here for Erik. For any book fan, yes I know its' backwards but this is AU :)

Disclaimer: I don't own POTO

* * *

Where we last left off... 

" I'll, … um.. just dart into the trees over there." Christine started off to a little grove of trees that grew on the edge of the road.

"Daroga shall accompany you."

Christine wheeled around, "What!"

* * *

Chapter 4.

'_That stubborn, insufferable…man!' _

And to think she was thinking about being polite to him. Christine scowled as she shot a look over her shoulder at the ebony skinned man who trailed a few yards behind her. He had been polite enough to introduce himself as Erik dismissed her to take care of her business. Humility burned at her face.

'_Look at me... trooping though the trees wearing nothing but my shift and a cape with a stranger._'

Christine figured that she had better stop somewhere before she walked out the other side of the grove. She looked around, the forest floor was carpeted with fall leaves. Some trees held tight to their red and brown leaves, but most had dropped them already. Christine stopped and stole another look over her shoulder. Daroga, seeing that she wasn't going to walk any further, turned on his heel and clasped his hands behind his back.

When she was finished with reliving herself, Christine trooped back over to Darogas' side. They both walked back to the buggy in silence. But for young Christine, curiosity got the better of her.

"How can you stand that man?" she blurted out.

Daroga turned his head and looked down at her, an eyebrow raised. "You mean Erik?" She nodded. "Well." His voice was booming and deep. "I don't stand him, Miss Daae, I just get along."

Christine looked up at him. "What is the difference?"

"One is forced, the other is not." Was all he said.

'_He speaks in riddles' Christine_ wrapped the cape tighter around her. The late afternoon chill was already settling around them. "Why does he wear that god-awful mask for?"

"I can not speak of that Miss Daae." Came his curt reply.

"Why not?"

"Because Miss Daae, I value my life."

They broke though the trees then, and Christine paused. She watched Erik run his gloved hands over one of the horses; checking its legs for hurts and the rigging for wear. He soothed the animals as he did so, talking to them softly in that hypnotizing musical voice of his. The scene was ruined though when Daroga cleared his throat, announcing their arrival.

…… . .

Erik looked up from the horses and quickly strode over to them. He nodded a swift curt nod to Daroga and the servant went off to finish looking over the horses and buggy. He quickly took Christine by the hand again and led her back to the buggy and inside it once more. He then turned to his servant before stepping inside himself.

"Daroga."

"Yes Monsieur?"

"We need to make it home before it gets dark and too cold for the girl. Hurry, but don't push the horses too hard. Understood?"

"Yes Monsieur." The man climbed back into his drivers' seat and took up the reins.

……. . .

Erik watched in amused silence as Christine tore into the meal he had given her. It was a simple travelers' meal, bread, fruit and wine. Christine had turned down the drink but dove into the fruit. The poor girl was starved, so he was not surprise to see her attack the food and throw away all etiquette.

'_Eat Angel... you'll need your strength.' _

"Christine…"

The girl looked up from her meal and spoke around her full mouth. "Um, yes?"

His lips twitched in a smile. _'cute'_

"I just wanted to let you know that, as strange as everything seems, you are going to be well taken care of." He watched as she swallowed her food and cast him a wary glance. "I know it was never the best way to go about retrieving you, but we are in a hurry. I refused to let you be exposed to such danger a moment longer. I made a silent promise to explain everything to you. So, do you have any questions?"

Christines' eyes flashed anger before she visibly calmed herself. "I do have questions. Many of them in fact."

"Please then, Ask. I will try to answer them all."

Christine put the rest of her meal away. Suddenly no longer hungry. "Alright, who are you? How do you know my name? And how did you know where to find me?"

'_Gets right to the point, as always.'_ Erik finished off the bit of wine that he had taken for himself and set the glass back in the basket that he got it from. "I use to live in the Opera House."

"You did?…I don't remember ever seeing you there. Even without that mask I think I would have been able to recognize you."

He waved his hand to stop her from speaking further. "You never saw me my Dear, but I did see you, and often. I lived under the Opera House. Secretly." Christen had a confused look oh her face so he continued. "I lived in the Opera from the time I was a child, when Madame Giry helped me escape a cruel and horrible life. I taught myself from the books she brought me. When I was old enough I traveled out of France. I settled in Persia where I became a contractor and helped build a palace for Shah, the sultan at the time."

"Is a sultan important?" Christine curled under the cape, suddenly cold. Yet she was too entranced by the story.

"Yes." Erik continued. "Like a king." Christen nodded in understanding. "I helped design a virtual labyrinth of secret passages ways and trap doors for him. After the palace was finished, the Sultan wanted all of my workers and I killed so we couldn't leak information about the secrets of his palace."

"He wanted to have them all killed?" _'What a spoiled man'_

"Yes, and it was understandable. I escaped of course, with help from Daroga. All my men though, were killed. Well, after that I traveled to Constantinople where I became a bit of an architect. Of course I built many secrets for the sultan there. I had learned my lesson and left before anyone could order us killed. After that, I returned to France, to my Opera House. Much wiser, stronger, and cautious than when I left." He slowly turned his head to gaze at Christine who was watching him with eyes wide with wonder. "Then I saw you my dear Christine."

Christine blushed lightly and turned away, choosing to snuggle deeper under the cape. "You s-saw me?" she whispered.

"Oui Christine." His voice dropped a whole octave, it rumbled deep in the chest and throat. "The sad little child whose' father had just died. You wept when you thought no one was looking." He watched Christine shift a bit on the seat, a bit uncomfortable at his knowing of such things. "I knew you to be great Christine. I could turn you into the Opera star…I could take those tears away."

…… . .

Christine froze. The answer jumped in her throat so fast she blurted it out without thinking. "My tutor, you're my singing tutor." Erik nodded solemnly and Christine all but trembled in anger, her hands balled into fists. "No! my tutor is a kind angle that my father sent from heaven to teach me. He always said he would send the Angel of music to me. You are not him!" She beat at her thighs with her fists, tears already forming in her eyes again.

"Christine…" Erik started softly; he rubbed at the bare side of his forehead. "I'm sorry if I'm not the image you created."

"No." She interrupted. "I refuse to believe that."

Eriks' eyes narrowed into a cold glare. "Believe what you wish Christine, it will not change the truth. What you say, is just the daydreams of a lost confused little girl. You are not a little girl anymore Christine. Look at you." He sat stone still, refusing to move, refusing to touch her and refusing to let any emotion filter to his eyes.

Christine gazed down at herself. She was in her underwear. Her shift was covered in filth. She knew she stank of death and must look like death as well. But he was right. She was not a child any longer.

* * *

A/n bit of a boring chapter. Grrr.. but one that had to be done. I'm a review addict so please feed my habit. :) thanks for reading. 


	5. Home sweet, church?

A/n gah I love you guys.. you feed my review habit. :) Wow I did the math about the Black death. For 34 million people to die in 4 years. That's 24,147 people every day. Egads..that's like my whole town. Anyways. Here is another chapter. We see Erik's strange home now. Sorry about all the boring description. I hate reading about it but hey, has to happen. :P

Disclaimer I don't own anything of POTO.

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Chapter 5

The coughing started.

She had coughed before thought out the "rescue" but this was different. It felt as though something was coating the back of her throat. No manor of coughing would dislodge it. It felt as though her throat was slowly being clogged.

Erik didn't panic.

Christine did.

Coughs racked her thin body. Pain shot to every inch of her chest. Tears from the force of the coughs streamed down her red face. She was vaguely aware of the strong hands that held her upright as she was bent almost double from the force of the coughing. Erik held her tightly with one arm while he helped her hold his handkerchief to her mouth. Christine grew weak, all her energy was sapped by the cough. Yet it wouldn't end.

Erik watched carefully as the cough grew weaker and Christine calmed again. He took back his handkerchief, noting the black-red stain on the white cloth. She sagged against him, too weak to hold herself upright. Erik pulled her back into his lap where he rewrapped the cap around her body. The sun had set and twilight was upon them. The temperature was steadily dropping and a chill would kill Christine.

'_Everything will be alright my Angel. Just hold on.' _

…… . .

Christine opened her eyes and looked around. It was too dark to see much, but Christine figured she was still in the buggy. They had stopped moving, and surprisingly…she was alone. She was curled tightly under the cape and was sprawled out on the small buggy seat with her legs hanging over the side.

Voices. She could hear Erik and Daroga talking with a stranger. Christine forced her sluggish body to move and she opened the door of the buggy as she sat up. There was a bit more light outside, but not much to see by. The first thing that caught her eyes was the bright light of a lantern that the stranger was holding up to Erik and Daroga. The next thing she noticed was the dark foreboding forest of trees they seemed to have stopped in.

A large structure was nestled in these trees, surrounded by a brick and iron fence. Colored glass windows glowed from the light within. Shadows filtered past the windows, indicating that there were people inside. Christine found her legs and was able to climb slowly from the buggy.

"Ma chère." Erik slipped between the men and headed right to her. Christine tipped her head up. He placed a hand gently on her shoulder and guided her over to the small cobble stone path that lead up to the iron gate. Daroga and the Lantern man quickly stepped ahead of them and pulled on the massive gate to let them in.

Inside a large lush lawn separated the house from the fence. They paused here and Erik returned to the Lantern man. Daroga had left to lead the horses and the buggy into the yard as well. They took a sharp right turn, along the wall and headed to a smaller structure that Christine figured was the stables.

…. . .

"Delroy, no one gets past theses gates unless I allow them. Understood?" Erik watched the middle aged man nod as he held the lantern at shoulder level.

"Oui, I understand. How fares the city?"

"In shambles Delroy. The plague hit it pretty hard. People are dying faster than they can bury them." A stricken look crossed the older mans' face. "Do not worry, we are secluded here, and as long as we keep out strangers, there is little risk that the estate will catch it."

"What of the girl Monsieur?" Delroy stole a glance at Christine over the shoulder of his master. It didn't take a doctor to see that she was unwell. But he bit his tongue.

"She is my concern only. If she is ill, she will be isolated." Erik growled softly. He didn't like to think that his Angel had the plague. But the coughing fit he witnessed an hour ago proved otherwise. She was sick. But there was no reason to raise panic in the estate.

….. . .

Christine gazed up at the silhouette of the large crucifix at the top of the imposing building.

"It's a church…" She whispered softly to herself as she glanced down at the stained glass windows.

"Yes Christine, it _was_ a church." Erik slipped up beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders again and walked her to the large wooden double doors.

"Why do you live in a church?"

"It had burned out years ago. Was destroyed from the inside." Erik swept his hand in front of them. "They didn't bother to rebuild, the patrons were looking for an excuse to build a better, larger one. For the congregation had grown. It was by sheer chance that I happened to have stumbled upon it. I offered to buy it for a considerable sum, and I restored it completely."

"But instead of a church, you turned it into a house?" They had reached the stone steps of the building, and the girl reached out to touch one of the stone angel statues that flanked the door.

"It worked out rather well." They reached the top and the massive wooden doors swung open.

Christine was greeted by a blast of warm air and light. The two women who had opened the doors were young, a bit older than Christine. They wore matching black and white dresses that reached the floor and hand sleeves down to the wrists. They greeted them solemnly but politely and kept their eyes cast downward as they pulled the door closed behind them. Christines' eyes swung out to the enormous room before her.

The floors were made with warm colored wood. And the walls were of light stone. In the very center of the room was an oversized fireplace made of wood and stone. Iron wall sconces created most of the warm light in the room. Christine looked behind her for the maids, but they had silently vanished. Surprised, she turned to Erik.

"They come and go my dear, out of sight most of the time. Pay them little mind."

Christine nodded silently as Erik took her deeper into the house. Past the furniture, past a rather large piano, and past a grand fireplace. It was a double sided fireplace Christine found out, she stepped past one side only to see a mirror image on the next side. It truly was a marvel. In this half of the room there was an actual wall the divided it up in half. One room held the dining table, the other had the kitchen where delicious smells where coming from. Christine was sure that she was wandering around wide eyed and opened mouthed. The house was spacious, yet it held everything that a normal house would need. The only difference was the gigantic wood beams over their heads, and the eight, six foot stained glass windows on each side of the house.

"Come, you will stay upstairs." Erik gently led a still stunned Christine up a large wide spiral staircase.

'_Upstairs?'_

Christine looked above her. The ceiling was at least 20 feet above them. Of course there most likely was another 20 feet or more to build a second story.

…… . .

It was a dream, it had to be. Everything seemed too surreal to her.

Christine hardly made it to the top of the stairs when she almost fell back down them. Erik caught hold of the small girl and held her tightly as her legs gave out from under her.

"Christine?" he scooped her into his arms as she fell into another fit of coughing.

'_Damn' _

…. .. .

Delroy, with his lantern, quickly made his way to the stables. Once there, he helped the Persian to unhitch the horses, water and feed them and brush them down. They did all of this in a respectable silence. Yet his curiosity got the better oh him and the man spoke.

"Who is the girl?" he gazed at the Persian over the back of the horse he was brushing.

Daroga looked up, removing the scarf from around his face as he did so. "She shouldn't be any of your concern Delroy." He stated simply, returning to his work.

"Yes well..." Delroy fell silent for a moment as he worked the brush across the horse. "I'm only worried for my family is all."

Daroga didn't pause in his brushing, nor did he look up from it. "What are you implying Delroy?" His voice held an edge of warning. The man was treading on thin ice.

The man licked his lips nervously.

"I'm sure the master told you that you shouldn't worry." Daroga took his horse and led her back to her stall.

"He did."

"So why are you concerned?"

"I am worried." The white man quickly finished his brushing and led his horse to her stall as well and made sure she had enough water and oats for the night. He returned to gather the brushes and tack. "She looked like she had the plague, she was pale gray, looked like walking death."

"I would forget about even seeing her if I where you Delroy."

"I don't want my family in danger." He countered as he took up his lantern again. The Persian stalked over quickly and grabbed the man by the arm, just under the elbow.

"The only person here who is putting your family in danger is you." Daroga hissed, letting the man go.

Delroy flexed his arm, the death grip the Persian had made his hand tingle. "I meant no disrespect." Daroga snorted. "Honestly."

"Go back to your family Delroy before you really get yourself and them into trouble." He watched the man stumble back slightly and hurry out of the stables.

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A/n Oooooo more characters. Me thinks something is up. Anyways. Thanks for reading. Please feed my review habit! 


	6. Hear no evil, Speak no evil

A/n Aww only 4 reviews? Well I hope my lack of reviews doesn't mean the story is getting iffy -teary eyes- But lots of thanks to those who did review. This chapter talks more about the new characters that have come into play. I'm not sure how big a part they will be, but it is nice to know who you are dealing with, eh?

**Into the Storm** – loll no he lives in the church. He turned it into a house. Added a second story and everything. Of course if Erik built it, it's bound to have a few…secrets. Mwahaha!

**Genius of Music** - -Huggles- I'm so glad you think the story is well written, Even with my dyslexia. (which makes catching the simplest typos or grammar mistakes very difficult.) I hope the rest of the story won't disappoint you.

**the Mouse in the Opera House** – Egads I hardly think the man has enough guts to go against Erik like that. But Hey, we never know till we get there eh? -evil laughter-

**Twinkle22**– of course she'll be okay… she's a main character :)

Disclaimer: I don't Own anything of POTO

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Chapter 6.

Maura held back her gasp of surprise as she hurried into the room with the bowl of almost boiling hot water. She remembered to cast her eyes to the ground in front of her as she neared the master. He was sitting in a chair that he had pulled up to the edge of the bed. In the large wooden sleigh bed, was the source of Mauras' fear.

'_The plague' _

The girl in the bed was grey as dish water. Dark bruise-like marks dotted her neck and upper arms. Marua shivered as she inched closer to set the bowl in the bed side table that had been cleared off. The girl was racked with coughs, and even with the white cloth over her mouth, Maura could see the dark black-red blood seeping through it. Her mind screamed at her to flee the room. But she diligently stood by her masters' side till she was dismissed. She tore her eyes from the sight on the bed and kept them to the ground.

A soft knock came from the bedroom door and Marua gladly darted away from the bed to answer it. Gabrielle, her younger sister stood there with a case in her hands.

"M-Master wanted this." The twelve year old whispered, trying to steal a look into the room. Maura grabbed the door and used it to block most of the room from view. She snatched the case from her sister.

"Go home Gabbie and keep your mouth shut." Maura hissed before shutting the door in the girls' face. She hurried back to her master with the case in hand. He took it from her without sparing her a look and quickly opened it, taking out the contents one by one and carefully dropping them into the bowl along with empting a bottle of clear liquid that Marua didn't recognize.

"You are excused Marua." Her master said. "Go home. I'll summon you if I need you." Marua curtsied and turned to leave the room but was caught around the wrist by an iron like grip. She turned and looked at her master right in the eyes. She shivered at the sight of the almost insane excitement in them. She quickly looked away and focused on his hand burning at her wrist. "You are not to repeat a single thing that you saw here tonight. Do you understand Marua?"

"Y-yes Monsieur." She said simply, wanting to get away from his scalding hold.

"Tell the rest that they are allowed to leave as well. And that they are not to return to the house until they are called for."

She agreed and he let her go. Marua dashed out of the room and tore down the staircase to the kitchen where the cook was warming dinner for the master and his guest.

"Come on we need to get out of here." Marua said as she grabbed the much older woman by the hand.

"But what of the meal?" the woman protested as she removed everything from the heat.

"Forget it. Master wants us all out right away. And don't come back to make breakfast ether, unless he asks you." The cook quickly gathered her things and followed the maid out the back door.

….. . .

Christine had finally stopped coughing and she gazed over with blurry vision to the man sitting before her. Suddenly her kidnapper didn't seem so bad. He was right, there was so much out there that was worse than being kidnapped. Especially when the kidnapper had been nothing but charming, polite and down right kind.

Christine tried to focus on what the man was doing. All she could see of him was his white mask, for he had his head bowed over a stealing bowl. He had fished a few things from it and proceeded to mess with them. It made little sense to her; of course Christine knew she was half out of her mind with fatigue and the stupid illness.

"I'm sorry Christine." Eriks' voice suddenly boomed around her, sending her senses

running wild. She felt searing heat as he touched her arm, turning it over. She felt the cool sting of something. "This might hurt a little." He warned a split second before she felt an even bigger sting on the underside of her elbow. She swung her head over lazily too see the cause of the hurt and she spotted a needle in her arm. Connected to that needle was a syringe and in that syringe was a strange light amber color fluid and it was slowly being injected into her.

…. . .

Erik watched closely as Christine slowly nodded off to sleep, but he didn't stop till the syringe was empty off all its contents.

'_There now. Rest well Angel. This won't be very enjoyable'. _

He returned the now empty syringe to the bowl of water, letting his mind wander to the journey ahead. The illness wasn't very advanced, but it had started taking hold and her lungs were being damaged. Erik sighed, sagging back into his chair, hand resting over his eyes.

'_I'm going to do anything and everything in my power to help you Christine.' _And he had an awful lot of power. He had a mountain of knowledge and recourses, there had to be a simple answer for this illness. He stood from chair and paced about the spacious room. His genius mind was turning over and over, digestion the facts that he had learned about the plague before he retrieved Christine. He shrugged off his tuxedo coat and tossed it over the back of the chair. He cast a look over at Christine to make sure she was sleeping well before he walked out into the hall.

A few steps took him to his own quarters, not that he spent much time there. He threw open the double doors and stalked over to what looked like a large wardrobe. Inside though, there wasn't any clothing, just shelves of jars, bottles and boxes. He took an empty case from the bottom shelf and proceeded to fill it with various items. Only he could make since of the clutter.

He took the half filled case to a small desk. It was covered with sheets of music, which he promptly swept away. The papers fluttered to the ground, ignored and immediately forgotten as he placed the box on the now clean desk. Erik snatched a few scraps of clean paper and scribbled furiously on them with a quill. The then waited for the ink to dry on each one before he tossed them into the case as well and snap it closed.

He was rushing now that momentum carried him. Erik was in his own little world as he returned to Christines' room and gently placed the case and its precious contents on the chair and returned to his room to grab a folded table that he had hidden under his massive bed.

Back in Christine's room he set up the table, made sure it was sturdy, and then unloaded the bottles and jars from the case. He brought out a few extra oil lamps and set them near by so he could have adequate light. It was going to take lots of hard work and lots of time to pull this off. Time he knew he just didn't have. Christine stirred and muttered something in her sleep. Erik hardly cast a look over at her. He didn't have time to be distracted.

….. . .

Maura scrubbed till she thought she would skin herself. There was nothing wrong with being on the safe side. Gabrielle, stood a few feet away, having already had her bath.

"You're taking off your skin, Maura, what is the matter?" Gabriella held a towel open, waiting for the moment that her sister would step from the water.

"Nothing." Hissed the older sister as she finally abandoned the scrub brush and reached for soap to wash her hair.

Gabriella sighed and glanced out the barn window. The church turned manor loomed in the darkness. The half moon casting enough light to throw shadows across the building. "Who do you think she is?"

"Hush Gabby, I don't think it's a good idea for us to talk about her." She pointed to a steaming bucket that was set out a few moments before by there father. "Water please."

Gabriella threw the towel over her shoulder and grabbed the bucket and lumbered over to the tub. "I know, but I still wonder. I caught sight of her as she was going up the stairs. She looked so pretty." She lifted the bucket and dumped the warmed water on her sister slowly as she washed the suds from her sandy blond hair.

"I think she looked like death… stank like it too." Maura countered as she scrubbed at her hair.

"Maura!" Gabriella exclaimed. "She just arrived, and from the city no less. Think of how awful it must be there right now. Really Maura… that wasn't at all polite."

Maura shrugged her delicate shoulders and stood from the tub. "Well it doesn't matter. We shouldn't even be talking about anything that goes on in Masters' house anyways." She snatched the towel from her sister and dried off and started getting dressed.

"Well you shouldn't be so rube about the poor woman. All I'm sure she needs is a bath." Gabriella followed at the heels of her older sister as she left the tiny barn and entered their home. They were greeted by a small but warm cheery fire and a lovely looking supper on the wooden table.

"She's going to need more than that right now." Maura muttered as she slid into the chair at the table.

"Pardon?" Gabriella took the seat next to her.

"Nothing Gabby." The older sister muttered as she saw her father shoot her a warning look.

"You girls know better than to take work home with you." Delroy gently scolded as he gazed over the table at his daughters.

"Yes Papa" the girls said in unison, lowering their eyes as their father said grace.

…. . .

Daroga wandered about the grounds. He didn't need a lantern. Like his master, he had excellent night vision. Past the gardens yet still well within the grounds of the manor, was the tiny 'village' where the servants and their immediate family lived. A smatter of small yet comfortable houses took up most of left side of the grounds. Trees dotted the place, as they had not been cleared when Erik purchased the land.

A shadow stepped out from behind the trees nearby and soon two other joined it. It was the night watch. They walked up and greeted each other in the dark.

"Is it true what Delroy said? The plague has hit the city?" Asked a much older man simply named Bay.

The Persian nodded, and the men smothered their gasps and muttered their worries to each other. Daroga held up his hand and the men fell silent again. "I wouldn't worry about the plague reaching us. We are very well secluded, even from the nearby village. The estate is in lockdown. No one comes in… no one goes out."

"Why can't we leave?" cried a younger man. The other two called out their worries.

"You can leave if you so wish." Daroga said calmly. "However, you will not be allowed back in, lest you bring the plague in with you and infect us all." The men grumbled, but agreed it was the right thing to do. "Watch the gates and the walls. Remember, allowing a stranger to slip in or even a family member to come and go…. You are jeopardizing all of us, your own families. Now, the plague may not even reach this village, but with hundreds of people fleeing to the country, it is a possibility. So don't let anyone in."

The men agreed and Droga sent them on their way. With a small sigh he turned and gazed up and the stained glass windows of the house. They were still glowing with life. Erik was still up and about. This didn't worry the Persian, for it was not uncommon that Erik would stalk about the place for days. But with Miss Daae sick as she was… Well, he didn't want to dwell on it much.

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a/n Blah, a bit boring, this one. Next one is going to be better. –cackles- Hmm Oh, I hope to get more than 4 reviews this time around.. Come on.. I got cookies! – holds up a plate of yummy cookies.- Anyways hehe thanks for reading and please review! 


	7. The fever

A/n Okay this chapter is a bit strange. :) But I hope you'all don't get too lost. Okay now for the thanks.

**Wild Mage Lioness** – It was a type of morphine, it will be explained in further chapters ( I think) and no, what he put on the paper was the "recipe" for the medicine he needed for Christine. But you were so close, because he will be using them to write music later. You reading my mind? –wink-

**Mominator **– lol –hands out more yummy cookies- Yes that was a risk Erik was willing to take. But he kicked everyone out of the house to minimize the risk of spreading. Things will be better soon though.

**Into the Storm** – I know! I always hate waiting like 2 weeks between updates. That's why I try to get the new chapter finished and looked over within five days. It's like a mini goal –grins- Maura is a lot like her father. But no, she doesn't have any feeling for Erik. She's very bitter that she is stuck working for such a strange and dangerous man. And she's a bit pissed that he brought in the plague, and another person for her to wait on. But that will come on in further chapters –smiles-

**kagome-kogas-dream-date** – egads -hands out warm gooey white chocolate cookies.- Awe, you're reviews always make my day. I know my style of writing isn't for everyone. I'm glad you like it. I hope to see more wonderful reviews from you.

And many thanks to **Chloe Rides a Land Shark** , **WanderingTeen****Twinkle22****, the Mouse in the Opera House, **and**An Cailin Fionn**

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Chapter 7

Christine felt the bed below her before she let herself open her eyes. All she saw was darkness and she felt a moment of panic. _'Blind! No!_' But after a few moments of frantic blinking, the sleep left her eyes and she could see, slightly. It was dim, the room seemed a though it was filled with black smoke. The haze was heavy, making everything muddled. She blinked a few more time to try and focus. She spotted Erik, sprawled almost like a child in a massive chair next to the bed.

He was asleep. His chin resting on his chest, mouth open just slightly and his breathing was slow and deep. She blinked a bit more and her vision cleared. She looked around a bit, her body not really obeying her commands to move. She felt heavy, weak just breathing seem to take such an effort. The room was large; the beams crossed the room at an angle far above her head. A large wardrobe graced one wall, as well as a vanity table. A tiny fireplace was built against the stone wall. Not for show, obviously, but more for heat. That was about all she could see because her eyes started burning and she had to close them.

When she opened them again, she realized she must have fallen asleep because she was being picked up. An arm wrapped around her shoulders and lifter her slightly off the bed. Her vision wouldn't focus fast enough but she felt the cool touch of a glass to her dry chapped lips. So she let her heavy lids close and accepted the drink. It wasn't water, which surprised her. It was a cold tea of some sort.

Christine didn't like it.

She coughed weakly and turned her head away, but a soft voice broke through the haze in her mind.

"Ah, come now Angel. It will help you get better."

Christine turned back toward the voice, knowing full well it was Erik even with her eyes closed. She opened her mouth to speak but the glass returned and she had no choice but to drink the bitter brew.

"There now Christine, I know it isn't pleasant."

He was so close; Christine could feel his breath on her face and neck as he spoke. She was almost afraid to open her eyes, lest she be inches from his intense, soft blue eyes. So she kept them tightly shut and forced herself to finish the drink. When it was gone, and the glass removed, she felt her body growing even heavier than it had been. She opened her eyes and all she caught was a flash of white. That god-awful mask.

She felt her body being lowered back on the bed, her head resting on the pillows. Her eyes closed, no longer able to keep them open and she slipped back into a drug induced sleep.

…. . .

Erik pulled the covers back over Christine and smoothed away the hair from her sweating face. Her skin burned his hand, she was raging with fever. But fever was good, it meant her body was fighting the disease. But it was touchy, too much fever could cause more harm than good. He collapsed back into the chair his eyes landing on the mixtures he had set up on the folding table.

He had worked at a frantic pace, but was meticulous in every detail. Erik's education with medicinal herbs and vaccines far surpassed anyone he knew. But even he was struggling with this illness. There were just too many factors to take in hand. But he tried as hard as he could. His body ached from sitting in the chair for far too long, so he stood and paced the room. Christine still needed at least one more injection. Her body was strong. Youth was working with her. But the plague had taken root deep in her lungs, and it was still there, he could hear it in her breathing. Without the injection, she would be in far too much pain and the cough would only prevent her lungs from healing.

Sighing. Erik took up the bowl of now cold water and headed out of the room to get fresh water. Downstairs, he emptied the contents in the sink and set the bowl to be refilled. It was then that he heard a very distinctive thump over head.

"Damn it to Hell." He cursed viciously at himself. He dropped the bowl, forgotten, as he darted out of the kitchen and pounded up the stairs, taking two at a time and nearly flying into Christine's room just in time to see her sitting up from the floor. "Christine!" he was about to scold her gently for getting out of bed but he caught himself.

'_She's sleep walking?.' _He wasn't sure, her eyes hardly seemed open, but they were moving around, darting past his form as he walked up to pick her up off the floor.

Christine instantly fought back.

Erik was surprised as he practically had to wrestle with the girl. The drugs he had fed her should have made her slip into a deep recuperating sleep. But here she was, fighting with him!

"Christine! Calm down, no one is going to harm you. Christine!"

The young woman screamed, flailed her arms and kicked and thrashed about. It was all Erik could to do hold on to her to keep her from doing something to harm herself. The pair fell to the floor and Erik tried to pin her between the ground and his body. This further enraged the fevered Christine.

"Nooo!" She howled. Her kicking had upended his case of medical instruments, scattering them around. "Let me go you demon!" Her face crumpled into tears. "I don't want to die!" She sobbed.

"Christine! Wake up!" He was desperate now. He feared he would harm her. Already he could see slightly bruising where he held her wrist tightly. Afraid, he let her go to get a better, more gentle grip.

Christine took the moment of freedom and lashed out at what she presumed was her attacker. Her hand connected solidly with Erik's masked face. The force sent the half mask flying from his face to skitter across the ground. Erik saw spots, his vision blurred and Christine slipped from his grasp and stood to run. But she didn't have the strength and fell for a third time. Erik gave his head a violent shake to clear his vision and dove for Christine. His mask was gone, his carefully arranged hair was wild and in his face, but he didn't care.

All he cared about was Christine.

"Christine!" He called again and he gathered the now stunned girl in his arms, pulling her hard against him and in his lap before she had a chance to struggle again. When she tried, Erik started rocking back and forth, soothing her with soft words. When that didn't seem to work, he started humming. The girl instantly responded, she calmed, her whimpering of death and devils faded. Encouraged, Erik traded the humming for soft singing. His voice wrapped them both in calmness. And soon, Christine fell limp against him. He had used the same song to calm Christine when she had been a child, afraid and alone.

Erik sighed, pressing his marred face deep in her hair and setting a kiss on top of her head. He fought tears, hardly believing what just happened. He didn't even want to think about what might have happened if Christine had reached the stairs before he could catch her.

With a sigh, Erik carefully got to his feet and returned Christine to bed. With her safely tucked in, he carefully touched the tender spot on his cheek where the girl had hit him. He winced and went looking for his mask, retrieving it from where it landed halfway across the room and set it in place. His hair would have to wait till later to be fixed. He was torn between staying and watching Christine, and going to the kitchen to get the water he needed to continue his treatment. The water won, and Erik hurried back down stairs.

… . .

Daroga relaxed as the screaming died down. They were from Miss Daae, and it didn't take a genius to know that the girl was seriously ill. How serious, Daroga could only guess. He let his dark eyes drop from the small flower like stain glass window that graced the guest room where the screams had come from. The young woman was obviously delirious, she was screaming about Death coming to take her, not wanting to die. She said there were demons in the room.

Course Erik was no angel but he sure was a demon, sometimes. He itched to go in there and see what had happened. To see if the girl was alright. But he knew it was forbidden to go into the house till he was called for. Even his curiosity wasn't worth catching the plague for. But all seemed well. The girl was calm now, and he hardly heard a loud word from Erik. He had been gentle with her. The thought please the Persian. Besides, he didn't think that it was possible for the man to harm her.

… . .

Gabrielle was kneeling on her bed, pressing her forehead against the cold glass of her bedroom window. Her warm breath fogged on the glass but she hardly noticed. She had been more focused on the screams. They had been very soft from this far away from the Manor. If she had been asleep she would have missed them. She could only see half the house from the angle her window was facing but she looked out anyways.

"I wonder what's going on." She said to herself as the screams stopped.

"He's probably beating her, or showing her what's under that mask." A half asleep Maura said as she flipped over on her stomach. "Go to sleep Gabbie."

Gabriella frowned over at her sister, whom she shared the room with. "I don't think he's beating her Maura." The twelve year old shot back before tuning back to the window. "I wonder what is under that mask." She added softly. Maura snorted and turned around to punch the feather pillow a few times before resting again.

"Don't wonder such things Gabbie. Just accept it. You shouldn't be talking about it anyways, you know the kinds of tricks the Master can pull. He can probably hear us right now."

"You started it Maura." The younger sister shot back before crawling back under the covers.

"Well I'm ending it, _good night_ Gabbie." Maura growled one last time before falling silent.

Gabriella twirled a few locks of her strawberry blond hair around her fingers. Did she believe the masker could hear them? Not really. But it was something that scared all of them into behaving.

Take Lilly, the cook. Her husband had been beating her for who knows how long. Nobody knew. Not even them, her neighbors, knew. Then one morning they all woke to find Lilly's husband was gone. When asked, Lilly said that she had asked her husband to leave, he refused. And to make a long story short (as Lilly put it) The master showed up in their house that night, and ordered the man to leave. That he had enough Damning evidence to get him strung up by his neck. And that the Master pulled out a coil of rope with a lasso at one end to emphasize his point.

"I was more afraid of my husband than the Master at that point so I was mighty glad he had come." Lilly had said. Saying the Master didn't think much of the man anyways, telling her that he did not allow such behavior in his estate and that he hardly did anything more than odd jobs around the place when it was Lilly who did most of the work, being the cook and all.

Gabrielle didn't think that a man, who would protect his own help from beatings, would beat his own guest. Especially one as frail looking as the young woman he had brought in. Gabriella stuck her tongue out at her sister's back to show her what she thought about her idea before flipping around so she could gaze up at the night sky from her window.

'_She must be very ill.' _Gabbie thought to herself as she let her eyes closed. But she knew that if anyone could save the young woman, it would be her master.

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A/n egads… intense. I once was in the room with a family member who had a fever induced fit. It was rather scary, course I was young at the time. But still. Hehe Please review! I have more yummy cookies! 


	8. THe next morning

a/n Wee, everyone hates Maura, that's good. –laughs- I don't like her either. She was going to be a nice character but she turned out to be a meanie. Gah! I HATE this chapter, I don't know what it is but I think it's really bad. Grrr… So please forgive me if the chapter falls short.

Wild Mage Lioness – Erik thought she was sleep walking, but she really wasn't. -smiles- sorry if that was confusing.

WanderingTeen – Oh my goodness, that must have been a horrible time. M'sorry that it brought back nasty memories –hugs-

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Chapter 8

The night had been a long one, even for Erik. He was exhausted, the first time he had ever felt such fatigue in a very long time. Sleep came in the form of stealing fifteen minute naps here and there. Not that he slept much anyways, but he needed rest if he was going to help Christine at all.

At the moment he was sitting at his piano. He was still in his tux but he had removed the gloves, jacket and vest. His white shirt was un-tucked and the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. His hands moved across the keys almost on their own, for his mind was elsewhere. Erik would have taken to the basement of the church, where he had his organ. The massive instrument would have taken up a good part of the house, so he expanded the basement and had it put down there. He felt better down there anyways.

But he didn't want to be so far away from Christine. If she called or had another fit, he wouldn't be able to hear her. So he decided to stick with the much quieter, closer, simpler piano. Erik glanced out one of the large rectangle windows. The morning was half over, birds sang as the golden rays fell over stained wood piano. His hair was wild, falling about his ears and in his face. He knew he must look rather wild, devilish, but who was around to see him. No one, and that was all that mattered to him as his foot moved over the pedals with disciplined grace.

'_Anica, chickweed, coltsfoot, Orris root and sage. I'm missing something._' Erik listed many more ingredients he had used as he let the music fill his soul. He knew there was something he was over looking, something that would make all the difference. It was something so simple. Modern medicine was pulling away from the natural, more potent forms of medicating. He knew that slowly but surly these god given materials would go forgotten.

"Damn it!" Erik slammed his hands on the keys, ending the flow of music. He stood, moving the bench away with a soft kick, shoving his hands through his already messed up hair.

… . .

Christine jerked awake at the ugly sound of pounded keys. She had been hovering in a n out of sleep for some time, listening to the music downstairs. Sighing, Christine turned to her side and stubbornly kicked to cover off of her. She knew she was acting childish but it was god awful hot under the bed covers. Her hair was plastered to her sweaty face and her fifthly shift was much the same way; glued to her body from dried sweat. The sheets were also damp from her sweat.

'_Must have been a Hell of a fever.'_ She thought to herself as she slowly sat up. Testing to make sure she wasn't going to be dizzy. Christine needed to use the water closet. But she had no idea where it might be. In all the excitement of coughing her lungs up, she failed to notice where the bathroom might be. Rolling her eyes at herself, Christine stood from the bed, keeping her hands on it to catch herself should the room tip. But she was fine, her vision was clear, and her balance was weak, but alright.

'_Call Erik for help.'_ She paused, then snorted. _'Forget it; I'm not going to humiliate myself yet again.' _She avoided the organized chaos of strange instruments and jars and bags of what looked to be herbs and various colors of liquids. A cold feeling of unease crept over Christine.

'_What did he do to me?' _

She had a sudden urge to look under her night gown to make sure he hadn't cut her open or anything as sadistic as that. But she swallowed hard. That was absurd. Her slow steps brought her to the door and very slowly and as quietly as she could, she opened the thick wooden door. Her big brown eyes peeked out first, scanning the hallway for anything that moved. There was nothing. Braver now, Christine tip-toed out of the room, leaving the door slightly open behind her.

Standing there, Christine felt very out of place. Barefoot, dirty, sweaty in some place and itching from the dried sweat in others. Her hair felt matted and oily. She was in need of a bath. Well, all she could do was snoop around and pray that her abductor won't find her. She took a few deep breaths to steady her nerves and opened the first door that was in front of her, just across from her room.

Luck shined on her. It was a bathroom. Christine took on more look around to make sure she was still alone before she stepped in.

'_I'm obviously feeling much better. I wonder if he will let me go now._' Christine finished the call of nature and stood at the sink. She was horrified at the sight of her filthy hands and arms against the sanitary white of the porcelain sink. Grime was embedded under her fingernails and her skin was almost tan against the pure white of the sink. There were various bottles of sweet smelling soaps and lotions in attractive colors. Maybe she could wash up a little before returning. She would much rather have a bath, but she didn't want to risk having a irate masked man barge in on her, wondering where she had gone.

A little washing wouldn't hurt.

Christine picked up a small glass jar with soft pink cubes of soap in it. She lifted the small jar to her nose and took a deep breath. The soap smelled of rose and jasmine and was wonderful. Lifting her eyes from the soap, her gaze fell on the mirror set just over the sink. Christine gasped at her horrible reflection and dropped the jar. The glass jar smashed into the sink, sending glass bits everywhere. It was hardly a second later when she heard pounding as someone ran up the stairs.

'_Damn' _

…. . .

Erik was moving before he even realized where the sound had come from. Christine must have woken up and headed to the bathroom. Why didn't she call for help? He was sure she was too weak to get around on her own. Damn it.

"Christine?" Erik hit the bathroom, hand on the doorknob. But the door didn't open.

'_She locked it.' _Of course she would. He cursed in his head a moment before be knocked. "Are you alright Christine?" He held his breath during the silence till she answered.

"Y-yes, I'm fine. I just dropped a soap jar." She yelled though the door. Before she unlocked it and pulled it open, moving carefully so that she didn't step on any glass. "I hope it wasn't an heirloom." She added meekly when he came into view.

Erik sighed in relief upon seeing that she was unharmed. He leaned his hand on the doorway and studied her intently until the girl started to squirm under his gaze.

"No, it wasn't." he finally said. "How are you feeling? I'm rather surprised to see you up and about so early."

Christine tipped her chin up and crossed her too thin arms in front of her. "I'm feeling better, thank you. Good enough to take care of myself." She added. She wasn't a child anymore. She didn't care if this was the same man how had comforted her in the middle of the might when she was afraid, or upset. She didn't care that this was the face behind the voice that haunted her dreams for years. She was going to show him that she was a grown woman, yes she was sick but that didn't mean he could treat her like a ten year old.

Erik smiled, and surprise flashed across Christine's eyes, but she quickly hid it. "I suppose you would like a bath now?" He now leaned his shoulder against the door frame and held back a smirk as Christine blushed. The bastard, he looked like walking sin the way he was. Hair messy, eyes holding that crazed look, rolled up sleeves and half the buttons on his shirt were undone.

"Well I… Um…" She fidgeted.

"I have some clothes for you." Erik interrupted, turning away to head back to Christine's room. "There is a broom right there. "He pointed to a small door on the opposite wall. "You can sweep up any of the glass, be careful." He waited till the girl nodded before he left for the room.

… . .

Christine instantly relaxed when Erik left her. _'God I hate that stupid mask.'_ She growled to herself as she carefully tip-toed through the glass shards and opened the thin little door. In side were shelves of towels a mop and a broom. Christine took the broom and ran it over the floor a few times till she was sure she had gathered up all the tiny bits of glass. _'And does he have to look at me like that_?' those eyes of his, they burned right into her.

Erik returned silently, startling her out of her thoughts and she dropped her eyes shamefully.

"I'm sure these will be suitable for you." He said, setting the clothes on the tile counter. He took the broom from her hands and swept the glass from the room.

Christine looked over at the clothes, seeing a new shift and what she believed to be a light lavender dress. Erik swept the rest of the glass from the bathroom sink, taking the soap with him, lest it have tiny shards of glass embedded into it.

"Be careful." He warned, leveling his intense gaze at her. "You may feel well now, but the strength can leave you before you know it. Keep the door unlocked."

"What?" If he though she was going to –

"If you faint in the tub I am going to help you one way or the other, and I would rather not break the door down." He said with a grin, stopping her thoughts in their tracks.

Christine glared, cursing to herself. "Understood." She sighed softly. Erik nodded, his smile fading.

"Good. I just want you to be safe Christine. And this little door is not going to be able to hold me back from that. Take your bath, I'll work on making you more tea to help with that cough."

Christine blinked and looked up at Erik. "Is that what you gave me last night?" Erik looked surprised.

"You remember that?"

Christine nodded, she was surprised too. Her memory was very foggy, but she remembered drinking something that was pretty revolting. "I remember it was nasty." She pulled a face that made Erik chuckle.

"I'm Sorry Christine, but it is vital for you." He paused. "I've been forgetting something though." He admitted, a troubled look flashed across his eyes. "There is an herb I need to add to your tea to help with you cough and help heal your lungs, as well as give you some energy."

Christine fell silent for a moment before she muttered. "That sounds like horehound."

Erik blinked, paused, then rubbed the bare side of his forehead. "Pardon me?"

"I said that sounds like horehound." She repeated, looking back up at Erik as he stared at her with a surprised look. Christine's eyes darted left and right before settling back on the man. "W-What?" Erik grabbed her by the shoulders, eyes flashed brightly in excitement.

"Christine!"

"Yes?" But, Erik never answered her. Instead he pulled her to him and set a kiss on her forehead.

"Take your bath Christine." And with that he shut the door and Christine heard him pound his way down the steps. She gazed at the door for a few long moment. _'What in the world was that about.' _She rubbed at the spot he had kissed. Had she guessed the herb that he had been forgetting? But it was so simple.

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a/n Yeah another chapter is done. Christine is getting better as you can see. But other things are to come. Reviews are loved –smiles- and thanks for reading. 


	9. Herbs and Breakfast

A/n Hi everyone :) I'm loving all your reviews, it keeps me motivated to work on this story. And as you know I'm addicted to reviews. Anyways. My chapters may take a bit longer to post because my younger brothers are visiting for a few weeks and my computer time will be cut a awful lot. But don't worry. Updates should be ever 7-10 days.

**opera777** – Gah thank you soooo much. You're review made me feel so much better about the last chapter. Hmm I think the word your looking for is Ironic? Hehe I'm not sure but I do know just what you mean.

**Twinkle22** – here is some information about horehound - Uses include remedy for coughing/bronchitis, colds, flu; expectorant; revitalizing tonic. And then there is the spiritual uses.- sacred to Horus; protective; helps clarity during ritual; stimulates creativity/inspiration; balances personal energies.

-hugs all my reviewers-

Disclaimer: I don't own POTO

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Erik hurried down the stairs and into the kitchen. Horehound. How could he forget something so basic? Easy, because he didn't have any in his supplies at the moment. Lilly, the cook had some, she used it for cooking. Erik thought perhaps there would be some in the kitchen somewhere. All he had to do was find it. He rummaged though the cabinets and looked at every meticulously labeled tin. But he couldn't find the simple herb. Erik was sure that the cook would have some in her cottage. Now all he had to do was figure out a way to get it without risking everyone.

Erik headed to the back door of the kitchen and opened it. He would just have to call someone to fetch the herb for him. Daroga wouldn't be up at this hour. He had night watch last night and he would have just gone to bed a few hours ago. Leaving Erik with a slight few he trusted enough. Christine seemed well enough at the moment, so there was no need for him to hurry. But the disciplined side of him wanted things done right this very moment. So he called on the first person his eyes fell on.

"Gabrielle!"

…. . .

Gabriella froze like a dear who spotted a hunter. Her large aqua eyes took on a look of fear as she heard her master call her. She did a quick assessment of herself. She was in a green summer dress, despite the autumn chill in the air, but it was her day off anyways so she didn't have to wear her drab grey wool uniform. Gabriella had a bunch of dried wildflowers in a fold she created from the front of her dress. She would crush the flowers to get at the seeds, hopping to plant them in the spring around her house. She didn't see anything wrong with that.

Perhaps she was too close to the house. A good ten yards separated her from the house but perhaps that wasn't enough. She had been there more for just the flowers, she was curious about the newcomer. She thought she would be able to catch a glance of the woman.

"Oui Monsieur?" She called back. The imposing man waved her over silently and she quickly dropped the dried flowers from her dress and bound over to the door as fast as she could.

"That's close enough." He warned when she was a yard or two away.

Gabriella took a good look at his haggard appearance before she remembered to keep her eyes lowered from his face. He looked horribly tired, even with that half mask on his face; but a light shone in his eyes. What her sister Maura called,_ 'His crazy look.'_

"Go to Lillys' Ask her is she has some dried horehound."

"Horehound?"

"Yes, and if she does, bring back a good handful or two."

Gabriella looked up as he waved her off on her small quest. "Aye!" She lifted her skirts turned and sprinted back to the cluster of homes.

…. . .

Christine scrubbed her head till she thought she would be dizzy. She couldn't get the feeling of his kiss off her forehead. It wasn't that she hated it; it was because she liked it, and that scared her half to death. She dropped her arms in the water, too tired to scrub anymore and just dunked herself under the water to rinse the suds from her hair.

'_You're really hopeless Christine.'_

She hadn't even been in the_ clutches_ of her _kidnapper _for 24 hours yet. Well perhaps she had been, she wasn't sure of the time. Christine sat back up, her wet hair draped over her face. Guilt instantly washing over her as the filth washed off her. All he had done was pluck her from the nightmare of the Opera and brought her here, to this wonderful place to heal her.

Sighing, Christine climbed out of the claw foot bathtub and pulled the drain. The foam covered dirty water slowly swirled around the drain; Christine watched it as she let her mind wander. It really wasn't so bad. Being where she was. Of course things could get complicated once she was better. And would he let her return to the Opera house once the plague was gone? Would there even be an Opera house? She shook her head, sending water everywhere. It was not the time to think of such things. She'll cross that bridge when she got to it.

The big fluffy towels felt wonderful against her clean skin as she dried off. She wrapped her hair in one and balanced the towel on her head as she finished drying off. Returning to the mirror, Christine felt much better about the face she saw reflected back at her. She still looked bad, gray pale skin, dark rings around her eyes, and bruise looking marks on her neck and on her arms. But at least she was clean and didn't smell like death, as she was sure she had.

The shift was simple, much like her old shift. It was knee length, white cotton and had a simple lace trim on the hem and neckline. It was a bit too big, but nothing she couldn't work with. The dress was a much better fit. It was of a cotton wool blend, just perfect for the cool weather. The dressed slipped on like a warm blanket and Christine loved the feel of on her. She suddenly realized that she had accepted the fact that she was going to die in that ratty little shift of hers.

The tears started again, no matter how hard she tried to fight it. She let them fall as she worked to button the line of buttons up her back. Christine knew how close to death she had come. Just another one among the corpses back at the Opera house. Perhaps she should have died next to Meg. Though death would have taken a while and being next to Meg's body that long might be more than she could bear. She used a plain comb to pull the knots from her hair and she braded it tightly. Scrubbing the tears from her eyes, Christine opened the bathroom door.

'_I wonder where he is.' _

Christine peeked around the door before stepping out into the hall again. The cool air hit her still damp skin and hair and chilled her slightly, causing her to shiver as she carefully made her way down the spiral stairs. Smells came from the kitchen, smells that she was sure were appetizing, but at the moment, eating was the last thing on her mind. Her stomach flipped at the very thought of eating and she hesitated halfway down the steps. Perhaps she should go down to the kitchen; she would hate to refuse the cook. But her legs continued to move her down the steps.

"Christine?"

'_God, what's he doing in the kitchen? And cooking no less?'_ She thought as she paused in the kitchen doorway, stunned to see Erik setting a plate on the small table. The kiss on her forehead burned anew and she prayed that she wasn't blushing. "I thought you had servants to do this sort of thing for you." She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning at the strangeness of it all.

"I told everyone to leave the house to keep from spreading the disease." He said sternly as he poured orange juice in a small glass. "Eat." He demanded, pulling the chair out for her.

Christine growled, she didn't want to eat. She dropped her gaze down to her feet. Her _bare _feet; where had her slippers gone? Was she even wearing them when she was kidnapped?

"Christine." He said warningly.

His crazed blue eyes bore holes into her as she fought to keep her eyes to the ground. But finally she caved. His gaze was much too much for her. Grumbling, Christine lifted her chin and took her seat as gracefully as she could. The sight of the fresh fruit, cheese, fluffy scrambled eggs and sausage turned her stomach.

"Erik, I don't think I can eat this." She choked out. Silence followed. She realized it was the first time she spoke his name out loud. Christine looked around to find him sitting at his own meal. It was a strange sight, for he seemed to be some other being that wouldn't need to eat.. .Like a ghost. Christine snorted in her mind, of course he was real, and of course he would have to eat.

"Try Christine." He said softly. "You'll need your strength. At least drink the juice."

Christine really didn't want to try anything, but he was right, she couldn't fight this off with nothing in her stomach. And besides, he said that she could at least drink the juice. She picked at the food, moving it around her plate. The few bites she had were bland, tasteless, obviously her illness made it difficult to taste much. Which was a blessing in disguise. For, as annoying as it was, at least she didn't have to deal with the taste of food. So she was able to eat a bit more that she thought she could. The texture of it alone made her want to push her plate away. She didn't doubt that the food was wonderful; it was just the illness keeping her from enjoying it.

A shout came from outside and they both looked up from their meal.

"Excuse me." Erik quickly stood from the table and vanished back into the kitchen. Christine heard him open a door and she leaned over a bit to look out the window and she catch sight of a strawberry blond pretty little girl sprinting over the large lawn. The girl stopped a bit a way from the house and spoke to Erik. Her words were too soft for Christine to make out.

The girl caught sight of Christine through the window and both girls froze, each gazing at the other.

"Gabrielle?" Came Erik's voice at the door. The girl snapped her attention back to the man and finished the conversation, tossing a small bundle the distance between her and the masked man. Erik dismissed her and the girl took one more look at Christine before she lifted her skirt and ran back the way she came.

Erik return, visibly in a much more…chipper… mood.

"Who was that lovely little girl?" Christine knew it was rude to ask such personal questions but she was so curious as to why someone so strange as Erik would have lovely young children running about.

"She's a servant girl. She brought me this." Erik set the small bag down on the table and returned to his seat.

'_Ah, a servant girl. That makes much more sense._' Christine thought "what is it?"

Erik smiled. The sight caused Christine's stomach to do a strange flip, nothing unpleasant, but strange nonetheless. Erik had a dazzling smile.

"It's horehound. For you." Erik said simple as he watched Christine drink down her juice suddenly. He lifted an eyebrow in question. "Christine?"

Christine set the empty glass down, taking a deep breath. "So my idea was correct? The horehound was the herb you were forgetting?" She boldly ignored his question, as well as avoided his gaze. A headache make itself known to Christine.

"It was," he said simply. "I'll make you a tea in a bit. Christine are you feeling alright?"

She wasn't. Christine was suddenly very warm, the dress felt heavy and tight even though it was flowing and free fitting. Sweat beaded on her forehead and her vision was going blurry. "I-I'm fine." She lied.

'_Bed, I must get back to bed.'_

Christine stood and was about to excuse herself when the room tipped sharply and her vision started to tunnel. Everything was shrinking to a tiny pin hole. Erik watched as she swayed once, then twice before he jumped up from his chair.

"Christine!"

The girl grabbed for the table to steady herself but she had already lost consciousness and tumbled down, dragging the table cloth with her. The plates, glasses, everything came tumbling down around her as she hit the ground.

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a/n Hey guys.. whoo…seems that Christine might have overdone it a bit. Me sorry if there were mistakes in this chapter, I'm in a bit of a rush to get it posted before my bothers kick me off.. hehe so I was only able to skim over it for typos and such.

Reviews are loved! Thanks for reading.


	10. Bath and Tea

A/n OMG look.. I updated this story ... I've been updating my others left and right and let this story sit here. Arg! I just had a massive attack of writers block, and most of it was for this story. I still have writers block for this story even though I already know what is going to happen and such. It's just hard for me to write it and make it sound good. Anyways… yes this story is on hold… I'm still working on it and I will update as I finish the chapters, but it won't be as fast as it was before. But I hope it will be better than the two months egads.

Reviews are always great motivation to write So I thank you for all the reviews you've sent me. And I hope to see many more :)

Now on to the story.

Disclaimer: I don't own POTO characters.

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Chapter 10

Erik hurried to Christine's room with her in his arms. Her tumble didn't cause her any harm but it had scared him half to death. She woke up as soon as he kneeled beside her and took her in his arms. She protested being carried like an infant but Erik was going to have his way. He nudged the bedroom door open with his foot and set Christine down on the massive chair. "Don't get up." He demanded softly and hurried over to the bed.

"It wasn't so bad." Christine argued, even though she was still sweating and everything was still turning.

Erik yanked the sheets from the bed. "It'll get worse." He said ominously as he hurried from the room with the bundle of sheets. He returned a few moments later with new, neatly folded sheets. He watched her out of the corner of his eyes as he quickly made the bed. It looked as if she didn't know what to make of his housekeeping. Erik figured she wouldn't want to lie in dirty sheets that she had sweated in all night, not to mention she was wearing that filthy shift as well.

"Do you think so?" came her soft voice as he smoothed the sheets in place.

Erik stood and gazed intently at the helpless young woman. The look she gave him broke his heart. She was tired. Tired of the plague, tired of death…tired with everything she had to deal with. Erik was sure that he was somewhere on that list as well. He stepped over and lifted her from the chair and placed her into the bed. She didn't argue, she just let him do as he wanted. "Remove the dress." Erik instructed. And looked away as she did so.

Erik turned back around when she was done and tucked the blankets around her. "I won't lie to you Christine. Things may be very bad. But you are doing a wonderful job in healing so far. You just have to learn not to push yourself." He reached out and petted her head softly. She shot him an angry look that quickly melted as she fell asleep. The poor girl didn't even have enough energy to be mad. Erik stayed with her till she was sleeping peacefully before he returned to the kitchen and cleaned up.

Nothing had been broken, not that he would have cared much if anything had been. He set the dishes in the sink and set the table cloth away to be washed later. The bundle of horehound went safely in his pocket and returned upstairs to Christines' room to set the herb with the others so he could use it later. He would make her tea later. At the moment the thing Erik wanted the most... was a bath.

He took one last look at Christine before retiring to his room. Erik had a private bathroom in his bedroom and he was more comfortable there. On his way to the tub he caught sight of his reflection and he paused. He could hardly look at himself in the full length bathroom mirror. Guilt suddenly washed over him. If only he had taken Christine with him when he had first fled the Opera House. She never would have gotten sick, she never would have seen her friends die all around her. Things would have been different. With a sigh, Erik ripped his mask off and ran a hand over his sweaty face.

Why was he sweating?

The thought made him pause. He was tired, worn out. Sleep would most likely be the best thing for him right now. But he still feared for Christine. Her health could turn at any moment. He would get some much needed rest later, when he was sure Christine would be stable.

The bath felt so good to his tired and sore body. Erik allowed himself to relax as the almost scalding water melted away his tension. But it wasn't easy with his mind going back to Christine. He knew he was going to have to forgive himself for not being about to help sooner. But Erik found it nearly impossible for him to forgive himself. He didn't want his forgiveness in the matter. He wanted Christines'

…. . .

Dressed in fresh black tux pants and shirt, Erik set his mask into place as he headed to the kitchen. He set water to boil for Christine's' tea and retreated back to his room. A comb made quick work of his hair, every strand was slicked back. His disciplined side and compulsive need to look perfect sometimes had Erik in front of a mirror for quite a while. As much as he hated to look at himself. At the moment he was hardly keeping up his appearance. His white shirt was left un-tucked and half buttoned. Erik had to stop himself from obsessing over his appearance. That wasn't what was important right now.

"Christine comes first." He said to his reflection in the full length mirror as he dropped his comb back on his table of masks, cosmetics and other such things. He always wondered how Christine could stand the sight of him when he could hardly stand the sight of himself sometimes. His mood shifted from well, to moody, and depressed. _'Keep positive for Christine'_ He reminded himself. The last thing she needed was negative, depressed feeling from the man trying to save her life.

Back in the kitchen, Erik poured a cup full of boiling water into a tea cup and carried up to Christine's room. Once there he set it aside to cool and quickly added the various herbs as well as the newly acquired horehound. Then he settled himself in the large chair by the bed and gazed over at the sleeping girl. Erik hated the thought of disturbing her sleep but he had to give her another injection as well as the tea. He just wanted to watch her sleep for a bit longer. But time was important, and Christine didn't have much of it. With a sigh, the masked man forced himself out of the chair to retrieve the bowl of just boiling water from the kitchen. Once back in the room, he dropped the needle and the rest of the syringe in the hot water to be sterilized.

Injection right into the blood stream didn't seem to have the affect Erik wanted. And that was unacceptable for his disciplined mind. If not in the blood stream, perhaps the desired effect would happen if he injected her in a muscle. Erik held his head in his hands as he thought and paced back and forth in the room. It would have to be a large muscle, like her thigh …or….

Erik paused and lifted his eyes to the sleeping girl.

… . .

Christine didn't want to wake up. Who the hell was bothering her anyways? Her name was being called, but it was distorted by her sleep muddled mind. All she wanted to do was fall back in the warm darkness of sleep.

"Christine." The voice called and it suddenly clicked to the young woman that it was Erik. She struggled, pushing sleep away and moving closer to the man who that musical voice belonged to.

"W-What?" Christine groaned when she finally forced her eyes open. Her voice sounded far too deep to belong to her. Light streaming in from the stain glass window assaulted her eyes and gave her an instant headache. She tried to sit up but her body wouldn't listen to her. Every muscle hurt her; so she was glad to obey when Erik placed a large hand on the center of her chest and gently pushed her back to the bed.

"You don't have to get up right now Christine." He whispered to her, his masked face was only inches from her own as he pulled at her eyelids one at a time to look into her eyes. _'Then why in the world did he wake me up for?'_ Christine wanted to turn away, look away, anything to keep from gazing into his cool blue eyes. She could get lost in those eyes. Drown in their depths.

'_Drown in their depths… come on Christine, you're going mad.'_ She chastised herself as Erik backed away and helped her to sit up.

"Now, I made you some more tea." Erik started. Christine groaned and tried to pull away so she could curl back under the warm blankets.

"Not that nasty stuff again, I wanna sleep." She knew she was whining, being childish. But she just wanted to get away from him. Christine felt too comfortable around him. But Erik only held her tighter against him as he brought the cup to her. Christine made a face but accepted the tea with as much dignity as she could muster. It was far worse than she remembered. She thought that it would be a bit better if it was hot, why her kidnapper insisted on giving it to her cold? Christine didn't have any idea. When the cup was finally empty, Erik placed her back on the bed where Christine threw the covers over her and curled up tightly.

"Christine. I'm not done with you yet." Erik carefully pulled the covers away from her. Christine was jolted by the sudden blast of the cool air in the room and she curled up in an even tighter ball, tucking her bare legs up into her shift.

"What do you want now?" Christine looked over and watched Erik refill the syringe with the same light amber liquid as before. Another shot…wonderful. "Another one?" the girl whimpered.

Erik glanced over at her quickly before returning his attention to the amount he was filling the syringe. "I'm sorry Christine Child. I'm pretty sure this will be the last one." He stepped up to the bed looking very uncomfortable. "Christine." He cleared his throat and rolled his massive shoulders. "You need to be on your stomach."

Christine blinked up at him with her large brown eyes and did as she was told, having no idea why she had to be on her tummy for this. She twitched slightly when she felt Erik set a hand on her back. It was large and the heat from his touch relaxed her more than anything he could have given her. Christine let her body go limp, relishing in the feel of his hand on her back.

Suddenly she felt Erik yank her shift up, exposing her bare bottom. Christine hardly had time to react when she felt a massive sting where he was injecting the medicine. The combination of pain and humiliation was just enough to push the half asleep young woman over the edge.

Christine screamed.

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A/n I know… I suck for leaving it at another cliff. But I've started the next chapter already so updating won't take a month… I hope. Anyways.. Reviews are loved, and needed for motivation... So review :)


	11. Getting better

a/n Holy crap.. its been like… two yeas from the last time I updated this story. As most of you know this story is on hold due to some very strange and sever writers block for this story. I literally had to write it paragraph by paragraph this whole time. Sometimes it was months between sparks of muse. Hopefully the story will flow a bit more. So sorry for all my loyal reviewers who've waited so long. I wouldn't be surprised if you guys aren't around anymore…it's been that long…Wow.

Now on to the story. i don't own POTO

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Erik jerked back, pulling the needle free from Christine's flesh before she could move and snap the delicate metal from the syringe. He quickly adverted his eyes as the girl flipped over and covered herself with her shift before scrambling to grab the bed covers.

"Why didn't you tell me you were going to poke me there?!" Christine was blushing several shades of red that traveled not only to her face, but down her arms as well.

"I...I don't know." Erik stuttered, mortified to feel heat rising to his face. Why didn't he warn Christine about the delicate area he would be injecting her? Why did he even have to explain himself to her? Why was he feeling embarrassed? This was his Christine, the child he watched grow up.

"You don't know?!" the girl screeched after him as he turned his back to her.

'_It wasn't like I looked.' _But he had looked… and felt instant shame for doing so. Christine needed to trust him; he shouldn't do anything to betray her in any way. Erik cursed himself, nearly sweeping the numerous bottles and bags of herbs to the ground. But he held his anger back, now was not the time for him to lose his temper. Not when Christine was finally starting to accept her situation with him, and not when her condition was so delicate. But his tempter got the better of him, and it was all he could do to not lose control and frighten the girl.

There was nothing Erik could do; what was done was done. Now all he could do was wait and hope that the medicine worked and Christine got better. Never mind where the injection site had been. It was the best place for such treatment_, 'and I'm a professional first and foremost damn it!' _This was a matter of life and death, no use lollygagging just because he had certain feelings for the girl.

Erik set his jaw stubbornly and turned back to Christine. He fumbled with the syringe, giving him something to look at as he tried to keep himself controlled. "Do you want to live or die?" He suddenly snapped, and bit his tongue as he said the words. There was no reason for him to be so curt with the girl. He unscrewed the metal and glass syringe and gently dropped them in the hot water in the large bowl.

Christine blinked in surprise at the cruel edge his voice held. All the anger seemed to drain away from her. He had never spoken to her in such a way before. Her thoughts flashed back to their time together in the Opera, when he was her teacher. She would never dare to even think of speaking to him in such a way. "I…I want to live." She said gently.

Erik's blue eyes glanced over at her but he kept his attention on his work. "Do not whine about the injection site." What was wrong with him? He shouldn't punish Christine for something she obviously didn't understand. She was just surprised.

Christine nodded, even though the masked man wasn't looking at her anymore. Perhaps she had overreacted. Yes he was her kidnapper, but she had gotten use to being treated so gently. So kindly. What he did was nothing any other doctor wouldn't have done. Why was she so upset?

'_Is it because it was Erik who did it?' _

Erik had seen her in more desperate situations, why had this bothered her so? Now that he was a man, and not the Angel of Music she had thought him to be as a child. Of course it was worth the humiliation if it meant saving her life. "I'm sorry." She whispered again, lowering her brown eyes to the bed and relaxing back under the covers. The sting on her bottom had already faded away and Christine could feel the strange heat the medicine was causing as it slowly seeped into her body.

Erik paused in his work and watched approvingly as Christine relaxed. His emotions still raged on, but with discipline only Erik could muster, he swallowed them back and hid them well. The tension and anger flowed out of his body, leaving him feeling strangely exhausted. He hid this strange happening from Christine by meddling with the twice cleaned needle. He spent many minutes drying each piece and meticulously packing it away in its' case.

"Sometimes,….sometimes these things are not pleasant." Erik started; his eyes glued to his hands on the case. He felt Christine's eyes on him as he spoke. "But dying of this disease is much worse." His mind shot back to the Opera house with its many bodies in various stages of decay. Erik's face lost all its harsh tones behind the mask as he turned to Christine, snapping the case's clasps into place. "There isn't much more I can do now." The troubled, yet thoughtful voice vanished and turned into the professional voice Christine was use to. "All I can do is try to keep you comfortable. The best thing you can do for yourself Christine is to get some rest."

'_Not much more I can do.' _The idea was fighting to him. Erik was so used to having his way, every time, no mater what. But with this plague, nothing was going the way he wanted. He couldn't control the plague. It left him feeling like a helpless bystander. And when it came to Christine, that was unacceptable.

"I will try my best," Erik paused, his blue eyes turned away, "to get you better Christine. I…I promise." He voice almost cracked, but he held his emotion well. When he turned back to the girl, he saw that she had fallen asleep. When she fell asleep, he had no clue, but he was happy that she was at least resting.

'_Rest well my Angel.' _

… . .

Christine made herself open her eyes. They felt like lead. As if they were glued shut. But she forced herself to open her eyes. She had drifted in and out of sleep, not knowing really what time it was or what was a dream and what was real. Her vision was blurry at first, foggy and unfocused. Then slowly, Christine was able to blink the sleep from her eyes. Weak sunlight poured from the stain glass window. Was it late in the afternoon or early in the morning? Christine had no clue. Her big brown eyes swung around the room, looking for Erik. But he wasn't there.

Christine couldn't help feel a small jab of disappointment. Part of her hoped that he would be watching over her when she woke up. A part of her was glad that he wasn't there. She was still mortified about her behavior with him before she succumbed to the medicine he gave her. It was also a relief to have a few moments without him fussing over her. Carefully, Christine sat up; the room didn't tilt, not even when she turned to put her feet on the floor. Slowly, she put weight on her legs, holding tightly to the bed as she did so. But surprisingly she didn't feel any pain. Her legs were a bit weak but didn't ache. She took one step and then another, each stronger and more sure than the last. Christine straightened up and took her hands from the bed.

Her stomach turned a little, but it was a feeling of hunger, not illness that made it cramp. Slowly she walked to the small window and rested her forehead against the lightly colored glass. The sun's position in the sky told her that it was late in the afternoon. She frowned slightly. Seemed she didn't sleep as long as she thought she would. Perhaps Erik had misjudged the dose. But the idea that the masked man would make such a mistake seemed ridiculous to Christine. He was strict with himself and extremely obsessed with everything being perfect. The young woman sighed, her warm breathed fogged on the cool glass. At the moment he was settling for something less than perfect… something that was dying. Talk about adding salt to the wounds.

Christine gazed out at the small groups of cottages nestled in the trees. Everything glowed warmly in the late afternoon sun. The girl sighed again. She had always thought she was special. After all…she was being taught by the angle of music. She was quickly inching her way up the ranks of the Opera house and had just started to gain the notice of the new managers.

Then the plague hit.

Christine couldn't fool herself anymore, she was sure there was no Opera left. Her angel of music turned out to be a man, and extraordinary man, yes…but a man nonetheless. And then she had to catch the plague as well.

Yes, she was very special. Special indeed.

"Frowning does not become one with such beauty." A rumbling low voice said behind her.

"Erik!" Christine jerked away from the window and turned to find him leaning against the doorframe of her room. Her stomach flip-flopped again at the sight of him. His clothes were slightly wrinkled, his shirt un-tucked and half open, his hair was out of place again. He looked like he just woke up. And he looked like he slept in his clothes…he looked good.

He let her rake him with her eyes. Feeling a perverse warmth in his middle as her innocent eyes swept over his form…twice. At least that depressed frown of hers had disappeared. He was afraid that he had embarrassed her too much for her to forgive him right away. But that didn't seem the case as Erik watched as she relaxed. "What are you frowning about? Are you feeling alright?" he pushed away from the doorway and took three slow steps into the room.

The slight frown returned as Christine gazed out the window. She couldn't look at him. The flipping in her stomach was getting worse now and she felt the heat leap when he stepped closer. He was still feet away but Christine swore she could feel the heat of him rolling off his body.

"I was just thinking how surprising it was that I didn't sleep for very long." She answered carefully, happy to find that her voice didn't wobble. She watched as he arched an eyebrow. He stepped closer until he was right beside her. Erik placed a hand on the wall by the window. Now Christine could defiantly feel the heat of his body. It warmed her to just stand next to him. She blushed slightly; feeling the blood rush to her cheeks and making them tingle.

Christine was so pale that the sudden flood of a blush glowed in stark contrast against her sallow skin. Erik watched in almost utter fascination as the blood rushed to her cheeks and flooded the column of her neck. He had seen people blush before, but seeing such life within Christine elated him. More so because he was the one that caused it. "Christine, you've slept over twenty-four hours. It is not late afternoon of the same day you fell asleep. It is the late afternoon of the next day."

The girl took a surprise step away from the window. "What?" No wonder she was starving. Christine looked down at her hands before returning her mahogany gaze back to Erik. "Do you think the medicine worked?"

Erik cleared his throat. Truth be told he was terrified by the amount of time Christine slept. At first he feared she had somehow slipped into a coma. Seeing her up and out of bed on her own put him at ease. "It's too early to tell, but you seem to be improving." He took a step closer and reached out. He placed two fingers under her chin and tipped her head upward. "Your eyes are clear, and there seems to be color returning to your skin."

Christine smiled hesitantly. Sure the color was returning, she could feel the heat of her blush traveling down her arms as she gazed into Erik's deep blue eyes. She tried to ignore the pale mask that hugged half his face. She tried to look past it to the eyes that gazed down at her. Without thinking, Christine felt her hand travel upward. Erik stood as still as a statue his eyes rooted to hers. Just as her fingertips touched the edged of the smooth white mask his hand shot up and crushed her fingers in his grasp.

"No." He said softly. "No Christine."

The girl blinked and stepped away from her captor. Erik kept his grip on her fingers. "I-I'm sorry." She started, but just then, the silence around them was broken by a scream outside.

"It's the plague! He brought it to us!"

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A/n damn my cliff hangers!! Why must I end the chapter with cliffies!?! I have no idea when I can update next. The next chapter is already half done but my muse if a fickle thing. Maybe posting this will spark it back to life. Pray for me. Thanks for reading, and as always, reviews are loved.


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